Walls
by colossalconundrum
Summary: A self-imposed outcast. A rebel without a future. A rundown diner and an impossible friendship. Can they help each other heal, or will they simply destroy themselves? AH, BxE
1. Purgatory

**Disclaimer – Though the ideas are my own, I do not own anything Twilight related.**

**Chapter 1 - Purgatory **

**BPOV**

"Here you are, Ms. Swan," the lawyer, Mr. Ackland, said, handing me the keys to the house. _My house._ "If you ever need anything else, anything at all, please don't hesitate to call. Charlie was a good man, and I know any daughter of his must be the same."

I nodded curtly, fighting back the urge to tell him how very wrong he was. Charlie may have been good – not that I would know – but I certainly was not. I was damaged; tainted. I was bitter and withdrawn and selfish. I knew all of this, but was helpless to change it.

Keys firmly in hand, I pulled out of the parking lot with all of my worldly possessions in tow – three suitcases of clothes and a couple worn books, a rusty old pick-up truck that nobody really knew the year of, and a leather-bound journal that never left my side. And now I could officially add another object to the short list of things in the world that were mine – the small white house in the middle of Nowheresville, Washington. I would be starting over in a town with a population of just over three thousand.

But it beat the alternative.

I had been frantically searching for a way out. Mr. Ackland contacted me just in the nick of time, and I received the letter the morning of my eighteenth birthday. It was a long, boring documentation that basically amounted to: _Hey, hate to break it to you, but your dad's been dead for months. Sorry we had trouble finding you. But it's okay, because you've inherited a house!_ Happy birthday to me.

It had taken months to secure the paperwork and tie up loose ends, but finally the house and everything inside it officially belonged to me. All I had to do was meet with the lawyer and get the keys, and it was mine to keep or to sell. I chose the former.

I had jumped at the chance to escape Phoenix. Escape my demons. Beginning a new life in a place where no one knew me sounded perfect. And I intended to keep it that way. I had seen the cruelty inside of people, and I wanted no part of it. Not anymore. I could be content with being alone for the rest of my life if it meant finally finding some sort of peace.

Unfortunately, being a complete recluse wasn't exactly a realistic option. Sure, I'd inherited the house, but houses came with a lot of expenses, and if I wanted to keep it, I would need money. Charlie had also left me the small amount of savings he'd managed to accumulate in his lifetime, but that would run out soon enough. Plus, I liked working. I had worked my ass off in some capacity for as long as I had been capable of doing so. Someone had to be the responsible one.

I was a little surprised at how easy it had been to secure a job at the lone diner in the small town of Forks. The woman who owned it had never met me, yet when I called to find out about the possibility of a job when I arrived in town; she hired me over the phone with no hesitation after hearing my last name. Apparently, my father had a lot of people who'd adored him. I hoped the good people of Forks wouldn't be too disappointed when they learned I wasn't going to be able to take the place of their beloved Chief Swan.

The drive from Port Angeles to my new home was the most boring thing I'd ever had to endure, and I couldn't believe that this was the closest thing to a "bigger town" Forks had nearby. My other options for getting the big city thrill were to drive to Olympia or Seattle, and gas wasn't exactly cheap in this hunk of metal I called a vehicle. I smiled inwardly. As much as I complained about it, I really did love this truck. In a sense, and as lame as it sounded, it had been one of the only things in life that I could depend on. It may have been old, but it was reliable, and had often been my hero in phoenix; my only means of escape. Plus, I had bought it on my own when I turned sixteen, and it was one of the first things in life that had really been _mine_.

After what felt like hours, I finally pulled into the driveway of the place I would now call home. It wasn't exactly Buckingham Palace, but I'd seen worse. I'd lived worse.

White paint – which may have been bright and clean once, but was now more of a dull grey – was beginning to peel, and if I planned on staying here it would need a new coat within the year. The roof and small front porch seemed to be in good shape, for which I was thankful. I couldn't afford any huge renovations now.

I shrugged in to my newly acquired raincoat, pulling the hood up. It had felt wrong to purchase the inoffensive piece of material. I wasn't used to spending money on myself, and would feel horribly guilty for months afterwards. It was worse when someone would try to buy me something. I'd rather go without than take charity.

I ran through the wet, dreary weather up the front steps, pausing to unlock the door. I stepped inside the dark house, feeling around the wall for a light switch. The lights flickered when I turned them on, and I took a long look around my new home. To the left of the entry way was a small yet workable kitchen. The dining room table shoved in the corner was old, and the three chairs around it were mismatched. The wood cabinets were peeling much like the outside of the house. There was definite room for improvement. The thought made me smile. It would make this transition to normal life much easier if I had something to focus my attention on. And fixing up this house was the perfect project to take on.

I opened the refrigerator, happy to see someone had taken the liberty of cleaning it out. I hated to think what six months of rotting food would do to the poor appliance. I added "grocery store" to the mental list of things I would need to do today.

On the right side of the entry way was the cozy living room. The only way to describe it – dark. The walls were painted a dark green, which matched the heavy drapery covering the windows. No light shined through, not that the cloud coverage would allow such a thing anyway. The couch was dark brown , with a matching recliner shoved in the corner. The coffee table in the center of the room was a rich mahogany. Dark. Too dark. I'd had enough darkness. The living room would be my first task.

The musty smell in the air did not escape me.

I went from window to window, caring more about getting the stale air circulating than the fact that it was raining. The only time I'd been to Washington had been while I was still in my mother's womb, but I had heard rain was a constant in this part of the state. I really didn't mind. Dry air, heat, and sunshine would only remind me of everything I was trying to forget. I needed no reminders of Phoenix.

I made my way up the stairs, ready to finish the tour and start the unpleasant task of unpacking. At the top of the landing there were three doors – one to the left, one to the right, and one straight ahead. I opened the one to the left and was met by what must have been the spare bedroom. There was a full-sized bed in the center, though it was stripped of any linen. Apparently, Charlie hadn't had many visitors. A rocking chair that looked like it could be an antique sat untouched in the corner. I was happily surprised with the closet space, and there was a nice large dresser that would easily hold my entire wardrobe.

What amazed me most about the room, though, was the wall color. Though faded with the years, I could tell they had once been a vibrant yellow. The contrast of these walls with the rest of the house was staggering. Mixed with the rocking chair, it was almost as if this room had been intended to be a nursery. Though most people only had nurseries when they intended to be caring, loving parents.

_And that wasn't Charlie,_ I reminded myself.

I took a quick peek into the bathroom. It was small, but with only me in the house, it would be fine. I paused outside the final door, knowing that this had to be Charlie's bedroom. Pushing open the door, I was not surprised to find it decorated much like the living room. It was just as stuffy as all of the other rooms, but I could detect a faint hint of something that could only been described as _man_.

_So that's what my father smelled like._

I didn't step over the threshold of the room, feeling oddly uneasy with entering the Chief's personal space. I knew I would eventually have to clean it out, but I couldn't do it now. I knew nothing about this man. Going through his things would help me learn about him, and I had no desire to do that. He never wanted to learn about me. I shut the door, not knowing when I would get the courage to open it again.

It took only two trips to get my luggage from the truck into the house and up the stairs. I dumped the suitcases on the bare bed, setting my journal gently on the bedside table. I hated unpacking, though I hardly had enough with me to complain about. It seemed like such a waste of time, folding things and putting them in a suitcase only to take them out and unfold them when you arrived. I did it mechanically, thinking about how much money I was going to have to part with to make this place livable.

Not only would I need to buy food, but toiletries and bedding. I had needed to make a quick getaway from Phoenix, and I hadn't had time to bring anything but the essentials with me. I was sure Charlie had extra linen somewhere in the house, but I would feel much more comfortable with my own. I also decided to buy paint while I was out. I would hopefully be too busy at my new job in the next couple of weeks to get any real painting done, but at least I would have everything I needed when I wanted to get started.

The clock on the nightstand read early afternoon. I was starting at the diner the following day, though not until the afternoon shift. Kate, the owner, thought that it would be easier for me to learn after the lunch rush when it was slow. I couldn't imagine a diner in a town this small ever getting too busy, but I kept my mouth shut and agreed.

I was still wondering why I'd agreed to be a waitress. I had done a variety of odd jobs from the age of twelve, but I'd never considered waitressing. I was not the most graceful person on the planet, and I cringed when I thought about the inevitable dishes I was bound to break. I hoped Kate wouldn't fire me. I _had _warned her over the phone, but I'm not sure she took me seriously. I prayed I didn't do something really embarrassing like dumping hot coffee on someone's head or a plate of spaghetti on a poor, unsuspecting customer's lap.

I shook my head, deciding that I could only do my best and if they wanted to demote me to dishwasher, I would completely understand. I grabbed my coat, wallet, and keys and headed out the door, back into the dreary wet rain.

I didn't have directions, but the grocery store wasn't very hard to find. Forks wasn't big enough to get truly lost in, unless you wandered too far into the vast woodlands. The store was mostly empty, save for the lone checkout girl and a few scattered shoppers. It had much less variety than I was used to, but I was able to find everything I needed in no time and soon had a cart full of food to bring to my new home.

The checkout girl stared at me curiously as she rung up my purchases, but thankfully didn't ask questions. I was well aware I would be the talk of the town for awhile, but hoping people would keep the gossip amongst themselves and not try to get my life story straight from me. In a small town, everybody knows everybody, and newcomers are always treated as a novelty. I just prayed they would realize quickly how completely uninteresting and socially awkward I was, and I could go back to blending in with the background like I intended.

I made a quick stop at the hardware store for paint and found a nice little shop that sold bed linins and drapery. Soon, my truck bed was full and my checkbook was significantly lighter. I sighed. I would have to get used to spending money. I was a homeowner now, after all.

It was early evening when I arrived back at the house. I set my grocery bags in the kitchen, put the various cans of paint and painting accessories in the hall closet, and brought my bedroom stuff upstairs.

As I was putting the groceries away, I realized I'd bought more food than any one person would ever need for a month. I wasn't used to having enough money to buy more than just the barest essentials at the grocery store, and I'd gone a little overboard. I sighed. Oh well, if need be I was sure there was a food shelf somewhere in Forks I could donate to.

I forced myself to eat a quick dinner. The nerves of starting a brand new life made food sound less than appealing, but I knew I wouldn't be any good to anyone tomorrow if I was weak with hunger.

It finally got late enough to go upstairs to bed without feeling guilty. Stopping in my new bedroom for some clean clothes, I headed into the bathroom to shower. When the hot water hit my chilled skin, I vowed to always pay the water bill on time now that I was on my own. Having a hot shower was an underrated pleasure in life, and when I was in Phoenix I never knew when the water was going to be shut off. I'd tried my hardest to make it easy – I'd put the money in the envelopes and set them out well before their due dates so all Renee would have to do is mail them out. But sometimes…

Sometimes the money wasn't used as it should have been.

I climbed into my freshly made bed, hoping the strange awkwardness I felt from sleeping in a new room would pass quickly so I could get some rest. I was exhausted, and I would need to be well rested if I was going to try not to make a fool out of myself my first day of waitressing. I groaned. This was a disaster waiting to happen.

The rain was still falling lightly, and the droplets hitting my bedroom window were a foreign sound. I couldn't decide if it was annoying or soothing. It kept me awake most of that first night. After tossing and turning for hours, I finally fell into a restless sleep around four a.m. My dreams were jumbled and nonsensical, but I would take them over nightmares any day.

By eight o'clock I'd given up and got dressed for the day.

The morning was spent on the phone, doing those little tasks that I assume every new homeowner has to take care of. All of the utilities had to be switched from Charlie's name to mine, and I needed to make sure my mail was forwarded to Forks.

At least I didn't have to worry about a mortgage. The house had originally been owned by Charlie's father, and it was taken over by Charlie when my grandfather had died too young. Charles Swan, Sr. had managed to put a rather large chunk of money toward the house, and my father had it fully paid off before he'd married my mother. Or so the lawyer told me. The suppressed fury threatened to bubble over as I thought about how little I knew firsthand about my own family.

At noon, I started getting ready for my first shift at Forks Diner. Kate had said to arrive around one o'clock. She never mentioned any uniform requirements, so I hoped my jeans and black sweater combo would be suitable.

Finally, I decided it was close enough, and I headed out. I had scoped out the diner the night before, not wanting to be late my first day. It was a simple, small white building surrounded by trees on the edge of town. I parked where I assumed the other employee's were parked, and headed inside. Annoying tinkling bells greeted me when I opened the door.

A girl who looked like she might be my age was standing at the cash register, flipping through an order pad. Though she was short and slender, she had beautiful, flawless features that made her seem out of place in this drab, small-town diner. Her short, pitch black hair was styled in that perfect bed head way that no one outside of celebrities can ever seem to achieve. She was dressed comfortably, like me, but with chunky bracelets and huge hoop earrings, she looked much more polished than I could ever hope to be.

She eyed me curiously as I approached. "Can I help you?"

"Um, hi, I'm Isabella Swan…"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, her demeanor brightening upon realizing who I was. "Kate told me to be expecting you after lunch. I'm so happy to meet you!"

She came out from behind the counter and started walking toward a swinging door I assumed led to the kitchen. I trailed along behind her, as I'm sure she expected me to do, and hardly caught myself from running into her when she came to an abrupt stop before getting to the door.

She turned to me, the big friendly smile still securely on her face. "I'm sorry; you must think I'm terribly rude. Everyone's been talking about you so much it feels like I already know you."

I grimaced, wondering how far off the rumor mill was with their assessments of my personality.

"Anyway, I'm Alice Cullen." She stuck her hand out to me and I tentatively shook it. I wasn't exactly skilled in social graces, but it seemed Alice was comfortable taking over the conversation. "I'll be training you in. You're actually going to be my replacement, though I won't be leaving until August. I'm going to fashion design school in Los Angeles, can you believe it?"

I wondered if she'd noticed I'd only uttered four words since I arrived, but quickly decided that it didn't matter. Alice Cullen was saving me a lot of awkward mumbling about myself right now, and for that I was eternally grateful.

"Come on," she said, turning around and walking through the swinging door. "I'll introduce you to everyone, and then we can get started."

The kitchen at Forks Diner looked just as you'd imagine it. There was a large fry grill where two guys were stationed, their backs turned to me. A third boy was at a table a little to the side, cutting up vegetables. There was a waitress station, and a hallway, which Alice informed me led to the pantry and walk-in cooler and freezer.

Pretty standard. Maybe I could handle this after all.

"Hey, guys! New girl's here!" Alice called in a voice that seemed much too loud for her little body. She sent me an apologetic look. Two of the boys turned to look at me. Or gawk, if you wanted to be specific. I felt like a circus freak.

"Isabella Swan, I'd like you to meet Tyler Crowley and Mike Newton." The boys nodded toward me as Alice said their names. "Tyler is one of our fry cooks, and Mike does prep work and helps bus and wash dishes."

"So, you're Isabella," Mike said, coming closer to where Alice and I stood. He held out his hand, and I took it, trying not to scowl. I wondered how many times I'd have to do this before the day was through.

"Bella, please," I requested. My full name felt too formal here.

"Bella," he repeated, not releasing my hand. I stood there uneasily for a few long seconds before Alice cleared her throat.

"Ah, Mike? You need to let her go."

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, immediately releasing my hand and flushing red.

"Anyway," Alice continued, rolling her eyes as she gestured to the one boy who hadn't turned to meet me. "_That _charming young man is my brother, Edward."

Edward cast an uninterested glance quickly over his shoulder before turning back toward his grill, waving the spatula in his hand over his shoulder in greeting. From the short look I got at his face, I could tell he was just as beautiful as his sister, although he seemed to be much more arrogant.

"Come on," Alice urged, tugging lightly on my arm. "Let's go find Jasper."

She led me back out the swinging door and into the dining room. The place was decorated horribly, but I suppose when you have a monopoly on the diner business, you can decorate any damn way you please. I suppose it was supposed to look "outdoorsy", but pretty much was just a big, cluttered mess. Random pictures and memorabilia hung on the walls, seemingly with no rhyme or reason. The place wasn't big, though it was more than I'd expected. Two rows of brown booths lined the walls, and a few scattered tables filled the middle area.

Though it was pretty quiet at the moment, I noticed that most of the tables were dirty, which made me feel a little better about business. I wasn't deluding myself into believing that I would become rich off the tips at Forks Diner, but any little bit was sure to help.

"You'll have to excuse my darling twin," she said. "Being a jerk comes naturally for him. It's kind of his thing."

"You're twins?" I asked, incredulous. Other than their unnatural good looks, the two of them were like night and day.

She giggled. "I know, right? That's the wonderful thing about fraternal twins. You don't have to look anything alike."

She glanced around the small area.

"There he is," she squealed, pointing to a tall, lean blonde cleaning off a table. She pulled me along behind her, and I couldn't understand her enthusiasm. "Jasper!"

He looked up from his work, smiling brilliantly when he realized it was her. I didn't even know these two, and I could sense the attraction.

"Hey, Alice. Who's your friend?" he asked, flicking his crystal blue eyes to me.

"This is Isabella Swan. Bella," she introduced.

"The Chief's daughter," he stated. "It's very nice to meet you, Bella. I'm so sorry about your father."

"Um, yeah. Thanks." I frowned. I hadn't considered people would be offering me condolences. I would have to work on being a little more gracious.

"Well, I need to get to the back," he said, unfazed by my awkward response. "These dishes aren't going to wash themselves. I look forward to working with you, Bella. Alice." He nodded at her once before grabbing his full bus tub and heading toward the kitchen.

"Isn't he great?" Alice sighed, sounding so much like a clichéd, love struck teenager it was almost ridiculous.

"Yeah," I agreed, much less enthusiastically. "He's very…polite. Are you two together?"

I regretted asking the second it came out of my mouth. I wasn't here to learn these people's life stories. Too much small talk and people started to assume you were friends.

Alice snorted. "I wish. No, he's been friends with my brother since he moved here in the fifth grade. You heard the southern accent, right? Anyway, he's pretty much Edward's only close friend, and he refuses to jeopardize that friendship by dating Edward's sister."

I could tell by her tone that Alice held some resentment toward her twin for that.

She sighed. "I know he likes me, too. I figured he'd eventually say 'screw it' and ask me out, but now that I'm leaving for college, I guess it's just not meant to be."

A pretty, young looking brunette wearing an apron came up to us then.

"Hey, Alice. Is this Isabella?" She smiled warmly at me.

"Bella, yes. Bella, meet Angela. She's the only other waitress on this shift."

We said our "how do you do's" and then Angela scurried off to tend to her tables.

"So how many people work here?" I asked, not wanting to suffer through many more introductions.

"Well, in the kitchen, you still have to meet Eric. He's another fry cook. As for waitresses, besides me, Angela, and now you, there's Lauren and Jessica. We usually have two girls on per shift, though we try to have three on weekend mornings. That tends to be our busiest time."

Alice handed me a black apron and a blank ticket pad, instructing me to be her shadow for the day. I quickly learned about diner hierarchy, and that Alice and Edward were sort of unofficial managers of the place. Kate only made an appearance a few times a week to open up or to fill in when needed.

"She pretty much hates this place," Alice claimed. "She only keeps it because she inherited it from her Grandma, and if she sold it, they'd tear it down in a heartbeat. She's too nostalgic to let that happen, so ten years later, it's still hers."

Alice informed me that she was the only employee leaving at the end of the summer. It seemed that most of the graduates of Forks High School commuted to the local community college after graduation. Only a few students a year went to a major university, and even less got to go out of state. I briefly noted that she didn't mention Edward's plans, but I wasn't about to question her about her brother when they seemed to have some sort of inexplicable tension between them.

I trailed behind Alice as she went about her shift. She introduced me to the regulars, who seemed to be expecting me. I plastered a fake smile on my face and greeted them all cheerily – well, as cheerily as I was capable.

The menu at Fork's Diner was relatively easy to learn. A lot of breakfast, burgers, and pie. Simple, just like the building, just like the town. And now, I was simple, too.

It was strange for me to walk around with Alice, pretending to be a normal girl doing a normal job in a normal town. I'd practiced my cool façade for years, and no one could guess the inner turmoil I was going through at any given moment.

People seemed realize quickly that I wasn't much of a talker, and thankfully no one pushed it, simply passing me off as shy. There was the occasional inquiry as to where I came from, and I kept it brief yet truthful. I'd come from Phoenix, wanting to try something new with my life. That was all anybody needed to know, and all they were going to get from me.

Alice insisted I leave before the dinner rush, so at promptly five o'clock she walked me through the kitchen to the back door used by employees.

"Alright, tomorrow we have the evening shift. It's not as busy as breakfast, usually, but it's pretty decent. You need to be here at four, and we close at nine, so we're usually out of here by nine-thirty. I'll give you a couple of my tables tomorrow to take on your own, and hopefully by Friday you'll be good to work by yourself."

"I'll be here," I promised, taking off the soiled apron and putting it in the bin Alice instructed.

It seemed to get darker earlier here, I noted as I drove home. I was sure it was because of the constant cloud cover and rain. I wondered what time of year I'd have to worry about ice covering the roads. I'd never driven on it before, and I was pretty sure I needed different tires if I was going to survive winter driving. It was a ways off, but I would need to ask someone about that.

Except I had no one to ask.

I couldn't just call up Renee, not that she'd know anything about anything anyway. I took care of her, not the other way around. And I had no father. I struck out twice on that front. I was completely, utterly alone. And the worst part was – I always would be.

I'd made a promise to myself while I was recovering in the hospital a year and half ago. If God, or Buddha, or whatever higher power was listening to my pleas would get me out of Phoenix, I'd never let anyone get close enough to hurt me again – physically or mentally. I'd thought it'd be easier being alone than giving someone that kind of power, and in a way, I was right.

But it still hurt.

_Alone. All alone. You'll always be alone. You don't deserve anything better._

I waited until I was safely in my bed that night before I broke down.

**EPOV**

"Tyler, we need more fries down," I called, growing more and more irritable as the orders came pouring in.

I was tired and hung over. I wasn't expecting the entire fucking town of Forks to want to come out for breakfast and lunch. The girls were running their asses off out front, and I was ready to rip the stupid welcome bell off the door. Who in God's name decided that six-thirty was an appropriate time to open a diner? Or, more appropriately, who the hell actually comes in to eat at that time?

"God, I hate this fucking job," I muttered under my breath.

"So why don't you suck it up and quit already?" mused a deep voice with just a hint of southern twang.

"Jesus Christ, Jasper, you know I hate when you do that shit."

He chuckled. "Sorry, buddy. However, if you weren't so out of it, you'd have heard me coming."

"Yeah, well, it was a long night," I grumbled.

"Mm-hmm, I saw you duck out pretty early last night," he smiled, a bit too knowingly for my taste.

"I was tired." I shrugged noncommittally.

"Not too tired to hook up with Lauren, though." His grin grew. "I also saw her sneak out after you."

I smirked back at him. "Well, you know me. Always up for a little bedtime snack."

He chuckled heartily, slapping me on the back.

"Seriously, though, where the hell are all these people coming from? Isn't it Wednesday? Don't they have jobs?"

"I don't know, man, it's weird. At least the day will go by faster, though, right?"

Jasper was always an optimist, much like my sister. And while she annoyed the living hell out of me on any given day, Jasper and I somehow became best friends along the way. It didn't make sense to those around us, though we were more alike than we seemed. In reality, Jasper was just a big of an asshole as I was; he just used his southern charm to cover it up to the outside world. I, however, was much more vocal of my distaste of…well, pretty much everything.

Jasper went back to whatever it is that busboys do, and I focused my attention on not burning the loyal patron's hamburgers. This really was a shitty job. But there was no way in hell that I was quitting. I was proving a point, working here, and I intended to see it through. I wouldn't give Dr. Carlisle Cullen the pleasure of seeing me grovel. Not in this lifetime.

The breakfast/lunch rush finally died down, and I had only two more orders to fill until I was caught up. I needed a cigarette and a nap. The only good thing about being unofficially in charge when Kate was gone was that I could skip out early whenever I damn well pleased. Of course, leaving these idiots in charge was never a good idea.

I heard the kitchen door swing open and Alice's tinkling voice chatting incessantly to some poor victim. She paused in her speech long enough to announce the arrival of the new girl loud enough for the entire population of Forks to hear.

Newton, of course, pounced the second Alice said his name. He and Tyler had been talking about nothing but Isabella Swan since Kate had informed us of her impending arrival. It was slightly pathetic, the way everyone went absolutely fucking crazy whenever someone new came into town. It only proved how simple small town life really was – and not in a good way.

I glanced over my shoulder once, barely getting a good look. She was cute. Possibly even pretty, though I didn't look hard enough to be sure. I sent her a half-assed wave over my shoulder which, in my defense, was much more effort than I really wanted to give. Unlike everyone else around me, I actually had my own shit to deal with. I wasn't going to fawn over the new girl like she was some sort of specimen in a science lab.

They left the kitchen as quickly as they'd come. Alice was taking her job as unofficial welcome wagon very seriously, and I had no doubt that Isabella Swan would know every single person in Forks – and their life history – by the time her shift was over.

"Wow, she's hot," Mike grinned. "And she was totally checking me out."

"Oh, please, Newton. Don't insult the girl's taste. Besides, why would she look at that," Tyler gestured vaguely in Mike's direction, "when she could experience these bad boys?" He flexed his arms, attempting to show off his nonexistent muscles. The results were less than impressive.

"How about you both shut the fuck up and get back to work?" I suggested.

They grumbled under their breath, but complied easily enough. Under normal circumstances, I could care less if everyone in this place just stands around twiddling their thumbs. I'm not the owner, and it isn't my job to babysit the idiot employees. However, I was hung over on a Wednesday, and lack of nicotine left me in little mood to deal with the two stooges. At least Yorkie wasn't here today to be their third.

I watched out the small window as Alice dragged the poor girl by the hand to meet Jasper, laughing softly under my breath. Alice and Jasper were a constant source of entertainment. Both of them had some sort of fifth grade crush on each other, but neither would make a move. I was well aware it was because of me. The best part was, neither of them had bothered to _ask _me if I'd have a problem with them as an item, they'd just assumed. And who was I to correct them when it was so much more fun to watch their ridiculous attempts at subtle flirting? I scoffed. Alice was about as subtle as a Vegas showgirl.

Alice introduced Jasper to Bella, and as expected, Jasper unleashed the full force of his Southern-bred charm on the girl. She surprisingly didn't swoon over him as most of the girls did, which was simultaneously impressive and strange. Alice, of course, ate that shit right up and batted her eyelashes with a big, goofy grin plastered on her face.

They exchanged pleasantries quickly – Jasper was never one to stick around and partake in idle chatter. That was one of the most surprising things about his attraction to my sister. Alice could drone on for decades without ever taking a breath.

Jasper gathered his now full bus tub and pushed his way to the kitchen to his post at the dishwasher while I refocused my attention back on my cooking. Sometime later he returned, bringing with him a cart full of washed dishes. It wasn't until the last plate was put in its place that he spoke.

"You meet the new girl?" he asked.

"Yep," I confirmed, not bothering to take my eyes off the grill.

"She seems nice. Kind of quiet, but…"

"Hmm."

"She's pretty," he commented offhandedly.

"And?"

Jasper shrugged. "Just making a simple observation, my friend."

"Well, how about you make those simple observations while you take over for me?" I asked, ready to get the hell away from this place.

"Sure," he obliged, easily sliding into my place behind the grill.

Another strange fact about Jasper. He could run the place if he wanted to, not that being in charge of a run-down diner in Forks, Washington was anything to write home about. But still, in principle, he had been employed much longer than I, and could do the jobs of every single person in the place with ten times the efficiency. But he chose to primarily bus tables and wash dishes. Whatever. His reasons were his own.

Stripping out of the grease-coated apron, I made my way out the backdoor, digging through my pockets desperately seeking nicotine relief. I sighed in audible happiness on the first inhale of the harsh, smoky goodness. Getting into my trusty Volvo, I quickly spun out of the parking lot, heading nowhere in particular.

I hated this place. Forks was the epitome of a Podunk town. I didn't belong here. Hell, in all honesty, my entire family didn't belong. Carlisle had more money than he could spend in five lifetimes, on top of being a world-renowned surgeon. The man was a medical genius, with offers pouring in from every major medical center in the world. Too bad for them he was an arrogant bastard with a God complex, and chose the smallest, most insignificant town in the United States to call home. He enjoyed the power of being the big fish in a small pond. Not that Forks could really be considered a pond. More like a puddle.

I sighed. No wonder I was such an asshole. I did learn from the best, after all.

As I wound through the familiar back roads, my head began pounding. I cursed, wishing I'd had the mental capacity to cut myself off the night before. What the fuck was I thinking?

My phone chirped, the flashing display answering my silent question. _Lauren. _Ah, yes, it was all coming back to me. Making her shrill, annoying voice even remotely tolerable had required at least a liter of Jack. And even then, I was pretty sure she was still insufferable. I hit 'Ignore' quickly.

I pulled up to the ostentatious white mansion we called home, parking in the middle of the driveway without bothering to pull into the garage. I could never force myself to stay home long enough for it to matter.

"Edward!" my mother, Esme, called warmly, greeting me in the foyer with a warm hug. "You're home early."

"Yeah, well," I shrugged noncommittally, not bothering to elaborate. I stepped out of her embrace, heading into the living room and ready to pass out on the couch for a few hours. I stopped short in the doorway, frowning at the man in the easy chair, reading a newspaper.

Esme came up behind me. "Your father came home early today, too." She smiled as if this was good news. He didn't bother glancing up from his paper, and Esme sighed softly. "Carlisle, Edward's home."

He graced me with a withering look for half a second. "Edward," he nodded before lowering his head.

I nodded back, and then rolled my eyes, because it wasn't like he'd see it anyway.

"You left work early again," he continued, surprising me by uttering more than one word to me at a time. "Your boss doesn't mind you coming and going as you please?"

I scoffed. "I'm the best she's got. I can pretty much do whatever the hell I want."

"Language, Edward," Esme scolded, and I tried my best to look chastised.

"Well, a job like that will definitely teach you the responsibility you'll need for the real world," Carlisle muttered sarcastically. "Honestly, Edward, can't we end all of this ridiculousness?"

"I don't know, are you ready to let me make my own decisions?"

"Have your decisions become any more sensible?" he asked in that seemingly uninterested tone that could drive me mad – though I'd never let him see it.

We stared at each other for an immeasurable amount of time. Finally I realized how stupid this war of the wills was and broke the silence with a resigned sigh.

"I think we're done here."

I turned and went up the stairs without waiting for a reply, having had enough "family bonding" to last a lifetime. Alone in my bedroom, I kicked off my shoes and flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. I was restless. The urge to pack my shit and take off into the unknown was gnawing at me, but as usual I pushed it aside. _Five years, _I told myself. _Just five more, long, boring, wasted years. Then you can go._

I sat up with a sigh, tugging on the ends of my hair in frustration. There was no way I was going to survive five years without a distraction, and the girls of Forks were never worth the effort. Time was my enemy, and I felt like a string poised to snap at any given moment.

Something needed to change. Before this purgatory I was caught in drove me over the edge.

**Notes –**

***If it feels you've read this story before, you probably have. I wanted this story associated with a new name…**

***No, all my chapters won't be this long.**

***I'm ready for all your feedback – the good, the bad, and the ugly. Show me what you got.**


	2. Bleeding Hearts

**Disclaimer – Though the ideas are my own, I own nothing related to Twilight.**

**Chapter 2 – Bleeding Hearts**

**BPOV**

When I finally woke up, it was already late afternoon. I'd exhausted my body with my emotional outburst the night before, and my eyes felt swollen and tired, even with the twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep I'd gotten. But despite how awful I felt, I couldn't bring myself to regret the night. I'd finally allowed myself to cry – really cry; letting go of every negative emotion I'd been bottling up – for the first time in a year and half. When things had gone from bad to worse.

At the time, I hadn't even been sure what I was crying about. It seemed odd that the loneliness that had plagued me my entire life would choose _now _to overwhelm me. In the end, I chalked it up to the stress of the move and of my new job, and decided to pretend I wasn't feeling completely out of place in my new home.

Thankfully, I didn't have much time to dwell. I showered and changed and headed out for my second day of work. It started out much like the first. I was self-conscious and uncomfortable, but I was pretty sure that wasn't going to go away no matter how long I stayed here. Alice greeted me at the door again; just as chipper as she had been the day before.

"Hi, Bella!" She literally bounced toward me, her arm raised as if to hug me. Though I tried to hide it, she saw me slightly cringe away, and dropped her arm. Her smile barely faltered as she settled for giving my arm a friendly squeeze. "We're working with Jessica Stanley today. She's dying to meet you, but I should warn you – she's a bit of a chatterbox."

The thought of Alice referring to someone else a chatterbox freaked me out, and I wondered if it would be considered rude if I requested _not _to meet the rest of the staff. Unfortunately, it was too late to come up with an escape plan, as a really pretty brunette was coming at us full-speed.

"You must be Isabella!" she exclaimed, holding out her hand.

"Just Bella," I mumbled, giving her a weak shake.

"I'm Jessica. Or Jess. Or if you really wanted, you could just call me J. I pretty much answer to anything."

I nodded slowly. "Right."

"I've been dying to meet you since Kate mentioned there'd be a new girl joining our little establishment. This town is just begging for some fresh young blood, and _oh my God_, you are so pretty."

"Um, thanks," I replied, glancing out of the corner of my eye to Alice, who was trying not to laugh.

Jessica didn't seem to notice, and continued her one-sided conversation. "I'm dying to know all about you, so thank God it's completely dead in here today. I swear I haven't had a new table in over an hour."

"Speaking of, I need to check on my table," Alice cut in. "I'll let you know if anyone new comes in, Bella. Are you going to be okay?"

"Uh –"

"Oh, we're fine. It'll give us a chance to get acquainted, right Bella?" She didn't wait for a response, grabbing my wrist and pulling me with her behind the counter.

My eyes were wide and pleading as I silently begged Alice not to leave me alone with this girl, but she just shrugged and smiled sadly at me before walking away. _Great._

Not wanting to stand around and do nothing, Jessica pulled out a tub of forks and spoons and a pile of napkins, and we began wrapping silverware as she talked.

"You moved here from California, didn't you? Ugh, I'm so jealous. What's it like to live there?"

"Arizona," I corrected. "Phoenix. It was…" _Awful, torturous, traumatizing. "_Hot," I settled on.

"Our parents used to work together, you know? Er, well, I suppose maybe you wouldn't know. But yeah, my mom answers phones at the police station."

"That's nice," I managed, wondering how I ever made it this far in life with such horrible small-talk skills. I literally could not think of more than two words to say to this girl at a time. Of course, Jessica didn't seem to mind.

"Yeah, she was always super curious about Chief Swan. I mean, everyone knew he was a great guy and all, but he was always so quiet that nobody ever found out much about him. Kind of like you," she added.

"Hmm," I hummed, disinterested.

At least now I knew her angle. I'm sure Mrs. Stanley was tickled pink at the prospect of her daughter working with the mysterious Charlie Swan's daughter. I'm sure it was like hitting the gossip motherload, though she was sure to be disappointed when Jessica came home with nothing to report.

"It's funny; he never really talked to anyone about you. If people in town hadn't met your mother during the couple months they were married, I doubt anyone would even know you exist."

"We weren't close," I understated. I hoped the hard edge in my voice would deter her from probing farther, but that thought was in vain.

"I suppose it's hard to keep in contact when you live in a completely different state. But most kids of divorced parents at least spend the summer with their dads, right?"

"I suppose some do."

"So you never saw him at all?" she asked, and I could tell she was growing tired of my evasive answers.

"Jessica," a deep voice came from the other side of the order window behind us. Apparently Edward Cullen had been eavesdropping on our conversation. "Let's not scare our new waitress away on her second day, alright?"

"Scare her away? I'm just trying to learn about her, Edward. I'm pretty sure that's what normal people do when they meet someone new." She turned to me. "I'm not being too intrusive, am I, Bella?"

"Well, actually –"

I was interrupted by an irritating tinkling of bells that signaled a customer. An older couple entered the diner and went straight for a booth in the corner.

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Back to work. That's my table."

I sighed in relief as she walked away, glad that I didn't have to resort to being blunt. I might not be looking to make friends in this town, but I certainly didn't want any enemies either. Edward didn't bother acknowledging me further, not that'd he'd been talking tome before as much as he'd been chastising Jessica. He finished whatever it was he was doing back there and disappeared to the back of the kitchen. It seemed kind of rude to come to my rescue and then pointedly ignore me, but who was I to question anyone's manners? Besides, I liked being ignored. It meant I was reaching my goal of flying under everybody's radar.

Jessica finished taking her order, and after taking it to Mike, who was now manning the grill, she reclaimed her spot next to me at the counter. I steeled myself, ready for round two of the Stanley Inquisition, but she surprised me.

"So, that was weird, right?"

"What was weird?" I frowned.

"That," she said, gesturing to the window where Edward had been standing before. "Edward Cullen was being nice to you."

"I don't know if I'd really call that _nice_," I mumbled.

"Trust me, for him, it was. It's a rare day when that man cares about anyone's discomfort unless it's his own. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's never happened before." She pushed her curls behind her ears with a huff. "He can have any female in town with a snap of his fingers because of his looks – and, trust me, he's taken advantage of that – but he's a certifiable asshole."

"So I've heard," I mused. Even his twin sister had attested to that.

"It's sad because he wasn't always like that. I mean, the Cullen family is ridiculously wealthy, what with Dr. Cullen being chief-of-staff at the hospital, so you'd think he _would _be conceited after living a life of luxury. But up until a couple of years ago, he used to be really sweet." She shook her head sadly. "If he's making any progress, it's probably because of Lauren."

"Lauren?" I asked, interested despite myself. I had to hand it to Jessica. She may be a gossip, but at least she's a good one.

She nodded. "His girlfriend. She works here, too. You probably haven't met her yet."

"That's right." I remembered Alice mentioning a Lauren the day before. "They're together?"

"It's pretty new, I guess. Not a lot of people know about it yet." She stood a little taller, and I could practically feel the waves of satisfaction rolling off of her as she got to break the news. It didn't really make sense, seeing how I didn't know these two people enough to care about their love lives. "Anyway, maybe Lauren's redeeming qualities are rubbing off on him."

"As if she has any," Alice scoffed, coming to stand at the cash register beside us. "Have a great day!" she called to the family that had been seated at her table as they walked out the door. "Well, that was my only table."

"And the way today is going, it will probably be your last," Jessica complained. "Guess I'll go dust something."

"We do random cleaning and prep work when it gets really slow," Alice explained. "Completely boring, I know, but it makes the time go by faster than sitting here staring at the clock."

"Got it."

She gave me a tour of the storage room and coolers, pointing out where to find everything I would ever possibly need while serving. That took all of ten minutes, and then I was armed with a knife and a cutting board and instructed to cut up lemons for the iced tea. Busy work, but at least it allowed me to pretend I was being useful.

My mind wandered while I sliced, and I couldn't help but think of the mysterious Edward Cullen. Why _had _he saved me from Jessica's prying earlier? I'd never spoken to him, and I could tell that coming to anyone's defense was out-of-character for him. And why did everybody say he was such a first-class jerk, anyway? Alice, despite being loud and a little overbearing, was nice enough.

It was true that his wealth probably explained away a lot of his personality flaws to most people, though I wasn't of the belief that having money gives you permission to be a horrible person. Their father being a doctor certainly explained how they managed to stay so fashionably dressed in such a drab, rundown town. There had never been a point in my life where I hadn't had to worry about money, and I could just imagine the things I would do if it were no object…

Unfortunately for me, I'm not good at multitasking. While I was lost in my head, I wasn't paying close enough attention to what I was supposed to be doing – cutting lemons. I had no sooner thought that I should watch what I was doing when my hand slipped, and the blade of the knife sliced the center of my palm open.

Blood poured out of the wound and onto the lemons, and I was too shocked to think of anything except how annoyed I was to be wasting food. It wasn't until Alice came around the counter and snapped me out of my daze that I processed what had happened.

"Oh my God, Bella, are you all right? What happened?"

"Ow," I mumbled, for lack of anything better to say, and let the knife fall to the floor. My ears were starting to ring.

"Whoa, Bella," Alice said, putting her arm around my waist to help keep me balanced. I hadn't even noticed I was swaying. "That's a lot of blood. Do you want to go to the restroom and clean up a bit?"

I shook my head. "I can't…I mean…I don't _do _blood." My stomach churned at the word. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Um, okay, just relax." She grabbed an old bar towel from under the counter and quickly wrapped my hand. She was frowning, and I wanted to reassure her that I would be fine, but fear of throwing up on her made me keep my mouth shut.

_Shallow breaths. Don't look at it, _I kept telling myself.

"Come on," she said, keeping her arm steady around me. Instead of leading me to the bathroom, she pulled me through the kitchen. By the time we reached the back door and I realized her intentions, it was already too late to stop her.

This was not going to be good.

**EPOV**

Outside the back door of the diner was where the smokers – which consisted of Jasper and myself – disappeared to when things were slow. Two folding chairs sat permanently opened beside the dumpsters, an old coffee can between them. On rare sunny days like this one, you were nauseated with the mix of summer air and rotting garbage. It was disgusting, but we never thought of moving somewhere else. We liked it here.

"Big party at Ben Cheney's tonight," Jasper commented. "You in?"

"I don't know, man. I don't think I'm feeling it tonight."

He nodded, accepting the words even if they made no sense coming from my mouth. Edward Cullen was never one to turn down free booze and the prospect of women. Unfortunately, Edward Cullen was growing bored. We did the same thing night after night, with the same people, in the same lame-ass town. Jasper was content with this. I was restless.

"Well, if you change your mind, I'll be there," he drawled. "I could use a drink or five."

"I'm sure," I mused. "Hey, how _is _your mom doing, anyway?"

He shrugged. "'Bout the same, I'd guess."

He didn't elaborate, and I didn't ask, just as he hadn't pushed me before. This was the foundation of our friendship. We didn't need to have girly heart-to-hearts and talk about our feelings. If I knew Jasper was having a tough week, I'd find him a party. And he'd do the same for me. Maybe we were helping each other self destruct, but at least we had the best intentions.

I flicked my cigarette butt into the coffee can, and stood up to stretch. It was too nice of a day to be stuck in this greasy diner. Apparently, even the customers agreed, because the place was empty. I was plotting ways to duck out early when the door slammed open and a frantic Alice was yelling my name.

"Edward, you need to come quick!"

I sprinted to the door, expecting a grease fire, or maybe to find that Newton had fallen head first into the deep fryer. What I saw was a swaying, pale new girl, looking like she was about to hit the floor.

"She cut her hand while slicing lemons," Alice explained, taking a firm grasp on her arm. "I need to clean up the front, and she needs someone to help her, and I don't know what to do!"

"Alright, alright, let me take a look at it. And calm the fuck down, you scared the hell out of me."

Bella had her eyes screwed shut, her hand held in front of her as far as it could go without physically detaching it. She looked ridiculous. Alice passed her off to me, and I took her elbow to lead her, though I'd never gotten the memo that said getting a cut on your hand rendered you disabled.

I pulled her to the back corner of the kitchen by the sink and sat her on an upside down crate. I slowly peeled away the rag wrapped haphazardly around her wound, and she gasped when it hit the open air. It was a nice looking cut, but far less dramatic than either of the girls had made it seem.

"We need to wash this," I murmured, checking to make sure she didn't need stitches.

She opened one eye slowly, glancing first at me and then at her hand.

"Oh, God," she muttered, closing her eyes again tightly and starting to breathe through her mouth.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell the issue is, or do you want me to guess?"

"I—I'm sort of queasy when it comes to blood. A lot queasy, actually. And I really don't want to puke on your ridiculously expensive shoes, so I'm keeping my eyes closed."

I smirked. "My ridiculously expensive shoes thank you."

As I held her hand under the stream of water, I figured I better distract her with questions before she keeled over. I had no idea what to do with a fainting woman.

I cleared my throat. "So, do you like it so far?" I frowned, realizing how fucking weird that sounded. "The job, I mean. Waitressing."

"I haven't really done any actual waitressing yet."

"I'm sure you'll be fine."

"I don't know about that. Stuff like this," she said, gesturing to her hand, "happens to me all the time."

"Well, this _is _Fork's Diner, not exactly the Hard Rock Café. There isn't much you can screw up."

"We'll see," she replied, sounding unsure. Then she added, almost as if she thought she needed to, "Everyone's been really…polite."

I scoffed.

"What?"

"Surely you aren't referring to me in that statement?" I asked in mock horror. "Hasn't Alice informed you of her obnoxious, trouble-making, devil-incarnate twin brother?"

She smiled; the first I'd ever seen from her. "She didn't use those exact words."

"Hmm, she must have been being kind, then."

I patted her cut dry, pulling some antiseptic, gauze, and a hand wrap out of the first-aid kit beside the sink. She finally opened her eyes.

"Well, you've saved me twice today, so you can't be that bad, right?" she asked.

I knew she was talking about getting Stanley off her case earlier. I wasn't sure why I had felt the need to step in, but I think it had to do with her irritating chatter grating on my nerves. Bella was obviously not interested in talking to her, and I was not interested in hearing Jessica speak. Therefore, I felt it was my duty to shut her up.

Bella watched me closely as I finished wrapping the bandage around her hand.

"You're really good at this. You should become a doctor."

I chuckled darkly. "Have you been talking to my father?"

She looked confused and I shook my head at her. "Never mind. You're good to go. You'll have to change the bandage if it, uh, bleeds through."

She winced.

"I don't think it will," I added quickly. "The bleeding should stop soon, probably, but you should go home for the rest of the day anyway. There isn't a whole lot you can do one-handed. Besides, you're still a little pale."

Her eyes looked conflicted, like leaving work early was a punishment instead of something to celebrate. Finally, she sighed.

"I suppose you're right." We both stood, and she shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Never making eye contact, she said, "Thank you. For cleaning me up, I mean. You're much more thorough than me."

It was a strange compliment, and her discomfort with the situation was obvious. I had a feeling she rarely ever asked for help. In a way, she sort of reminded me of myself.

Bella walked back to the front, and I took over my place at the grill. She stopped short when she saw Alice scrubbing down the countertop with bleach and an old dishtowel.

"All fixed?" Alice asked cheerily, throwing the used rag into the trash.

"Er, yes," Bella replied, clutching her bandaged hand to her chest. "You didn't have to clean up after me. I would have done it."

Alice grinned. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't a big deal."

"Well…Thank you. I'm heading out, if that's okay? I don't think I'll do anyone any good here today."

"Of course you should go. Hopefully you'll feel better tomorrow." My sister was laying the charm on thick, and I wondered what she was up to.

Bella took off her apron and already had one hand on the door before Alice called out to her.

"Hey, Bella?"

"Yes?"

"My shift is done in two hours. I was thinking about making the drive to Port Angeles tonight and going to this great Italian place I know of. You should join me."

And there it was. My pushy sister wanted to worm her way into new girl's life and find out what made her tick. Unfortunately for her, Bella would have none of it.

"I can't," she replied, looking everywhere but at Alice, and doing that nervous foot-hopping thing again.

"Oh," Alice said, looking disappointed but not at all defeated. "Do you have other plans?"

"I need to work on Charlie's house," Bella replied, though what she was planning to do with an injured hand, I wasn't sure. "My house. It needs a lot of repairs, so that's kind of how I spend my free time."

Alice nodded sympathetically. "Wow, that sounds like a lot of hard work all by yourself. You know, I could just skip Port Angeles and come help you, if you wanted. It wouldn't be any trouble at all."

"No, no," Bella shook her head. "Really. You should definitely keep the plans you have, and I'd kind of rather do it myself. I'm kind of picky, you know?" She opened the door, saying, "I'll see you later, okay?" before abruptly walking out.

"Okay…" Alice replied too late.

I could understand why Alice would want to get in her head. It was really weird for someone to be so reclusive in a town like Forks, where everyone knows everything about everyone else. And this girl had secrets. Ones even Jessica Stanley couldn't get out of her, though she'd tried hard.

I had to admit that even I was curious about what the hell was up with her whole anti-social act. She was a mystery, and hadn't I just said that I was bored? Of course, she already had my sister and Jessica hounding her for information she wasn't willing to give. And, besides, I had enough of my own troubles without getting caught up in someone else's screwed up life.

I didn't notice Alice standing beside me until she snapped at me. "What are you thinking?"

I frowned. "Nothing in particular."

"I know that look, Edward. You're interested in her, aren't you?"

"Will you keep your voice down?" I hissed, looking over my shoulder for any sign of Jasper or Newton. Luckily, we were alone. "No, I'm not interested in her, okay? I don't even know the girl, for God's sake."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care if you do."

"Edward, I'm serious," she glowered, hands on her hips. "Something bad happened to that girl before she moved here; I can tell. And the last thing she needs is you trying to get in her pants."

"Who says I would try to get in her pants?"

"Because that's what you always do!" she cried. "Love them and leave them, right, brother?"

"Minus the 'love' part," I grumbled, feeling a flicker of annoyance at her accusations. Even if they were true.

"Exactly. Look, Edward, you can live your life however you want to. I'm way past trying to stop you. But whatever's going on with Bella, the last thing she needs is more pain then she probably already has."

I sighed. "Will you quit worrying? I told you, I have no interest in her. She's just the new girl, and I have no intention of even getting to know her, let alone ruining her life."

"Good. Besides," she smirked, "I'm sure your hands are full enough, what with your new girlfriend and all."

"My what?"

"Why, Lauren, of course." She giggled. "Sorry, have you not been told yet? Don't worry; I'm sure Jessica will make her way back here once she's done informing the rest of the townsfolk."

"You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Fuck," I mumbled, pulling at the roots of my hair in aggravation. "Why do females always pull this shit?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "The price we pay when we're irresistible. Of course, _not _being a man-whore would probably eliminate this problem."

I glared at her. "Don't you have work to do?"

"No, not really," she shrugged. "But I'll leave you alone anyway. I'm sure you have a lot of thinking to do if you're going to get out of this one. I'd tell you to let her down easy, but…Well, I might as well not waste my breath, right?"

She skipped away, completely fucking happy with herself. I pulled my cell out of my pocket, debating on calling Lauren right then and there and setting her straight. But in my annoyance, I was bound to be a complete dick, and parties at the Mallory residence were always some of the best. If I didn't want to get blacklisted forever, I needed time to cool off. We were both working the opening shift the next day.

_Tomorrow_. I would deal with Lauren then.

**Notes-**

***No, updates won't always be this fast.**

***Sorry for any minor errors, I'm running beta-less.**

***I appreciate your feedback.**


	3. Family Matters

**Disclaimer – Though the ideas are my own, I do not own Twilight.**

**Chapter 3 – Family Matters**

**BPOV**

Even though I had convinced myself I would, I did not bleed to death my third night in Forks. I spent most of the afternoon after my mishap sitting on the living room floor, staring at the still-sealed paint cans and feeling guilty that I wasn't actually doing anything. I wasn't happy about having to lie to Alice.

I turned in early again that night, unable to sleep, but incapable of doing much of anything else. I had never been much of a TV watcher. I left my right arm dangling over the mattress, unwilling to let my bandaged hand touch my brand new sheets. Edward had kindly warned me about breakthrough bleeding.

Morning finally came, and I worked up enough courage to unwrap my hand, praying the bleeding had stopped and I would be in good enough shape to go to work in the evening. The thought of being cooped up in the house I was so uncomfortable in made my stomach churn. Luckily, though there was an angry red line down the center of my palm, there was no more gushing, and the wound seemed to already be well on its way to healing. Just to be safe, I found an old tube of Neosporin in Charlie's medicine cabinet, and put a smaller bandage on top to keep it clean.

The day dragged on. Being raised in a household that I was constantly trying to escape, I'd become somewhat of a work-a-holic. Whether it was walking dogs the summer before eighth grade or scanning produce at the local grocer when I was sixteen, I'd always put all of my energy into working. It was never about money – there was never enough, no matter how many hours I logged. No, I enjoyed having something to focus on that wasn't the harsh reality of my life. But now, here in Forks, I didn't know what to do with all of the downtime I suddenly had.

As I showered and dressed for work, my nerves starting kicking in full force. Now that Alice knew I had no intentions of becoming her friend, would she be angry? I tried convincing myself that it didn't really matter – that it was for the best, even. She's be off to school soon anyway, and that would be one less person trying to pry their way into my past. But the nagging guilt would not subside. Alice seemed like a genuinely nice person, and although her personality was a little over the top, were I a normal person, she would be the type of girl I would be happy to become friends with.

But I wasn't normal. And I couldn't afford friends.

It turned out that my worrying was unnecessary. The second I walked in the door of the diner, I was greeted with Alice's warm smile. It seemed she wasn't the type to hold a grudge.

"Hi, Bella," she greeted cheerily, casting a quick look at my palm. "How's the hand?"

"Fine," I replied. "Just one small scrape that's already practically healed over."

"Glad to hear it. I was hoping you'd be able to come in tonight. I think you're more than ready to have your own table, and you've already been requested," she said.

"I've been what?"

"Harry and Sue Clearwater," she replied, nodding her head toward a middle-aged couple in a corner booth. "They live on the reservation, and aren't really the type to make the drive here for a semi-decent burger, if you know what I mean." She hesitated. "I think Harry was close to your father."

"Oh," I replied dumbly. Of course the people closest to Chief Swan would not be content to simply gawk at me like the rest of the population. They would actually want to meet me.

"They've been sitting there for forty-five minutes waiting for you to come in. I could tell them you're busy…"Alice offered, looking uncomfortable.

"No, it's fine," I promised, though it was anything but. "I'll take them."

Walking slowly toward the table, I tried to ignore their scrutiny; plastering what I hoped was a cheery smile to my face. "Hey, you two, how are you doing today?"

No answer. I resisted the urge to sigh, and shut my mouth, letting them stare and hoping they would get it out of their systems quickly. I was working, after all.

"Aren't you just a spitting image?" Sue Clearwater said after a long pause. She didn't need to elaborate.

"Really? I don't see it," I replied, my annoyance starting to slip though I was trying to keep it in check.

If they were offended by my rudeness, they didn't let it show.

"Oh, you're definitely your father's child. Especially the eyes," she continued with a kind smile, and I almost felt bad for my snippy tone. It wasn't anyone else's fault that Charlie was a dead-beat dad, and taking it out on the people who knew him best wouldn't change the past.

Harry had yet to comment, though he was still staring at me curiously. It was unnerving, almost as if he was picking through my brain and hearing every negative thought I'd ever had about my father – and he didn't approve.

"Charlie was a good man," Harry finally spoke, as if reading my mind. "As brave and honest as they come."

"I wouldn't know anything about that," I replied shortly, beginning to lose my temper. Did they really think it was the best time and place to have this conversation?

"He died a hero, and that's not something anyone in this town is likely to forget." He pointed across the room at a wall covered in junk. "Maybe you should read for yourself before you make any rash judgments."

I snorted. "I hardly think judging a man who chose not to be a part of his daughter's life for eighteen years is 'rash'."

"Things aren't always what they seem, Isabella."

I'd had enough. "Look, I don't mean to be rude. You seem like genuinely nice people, but I'm working. I can understand your curiosity

"Two California burgers, please," Sue replied. The sad smile on her face was one of pity.

"Coming right up," I grumbled, taking their menus back up to the cash register where Alice was still standing. "If you wouldn't mind bringing them their food when it comes up, I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure," she replied, studying me curiously. I could tell she was itching to know what the Clearwater's had said to me, but to her credit, she refrained.

I quickly scribbled their order, placing it in the ticket carousel and promptly ignoring the Clearwater's for the rest of their visit. I was now being outright rude, uncharacteristically, but I didn't know what else to do. Harry's cryptic comments had been unsettling, and I didn't like people telling me I didn't have a right to be angry about my past. They had no idea.

Of course, he had to have pointed to the damn wall. I'd only given it a passing glance since starting at the diner, but now it was calling to me like a beacon. _Read me, Bella._ With a sight, I stomped over to it, searching through the randomness to find something that mattered.

It only took seconds. The newspaper article was framed in the center of the wall, surrounded by old beat-up license plates and a silver spoon collection. I took a deep breath, and began to read.

_**Local Shootout Leaves Two Dead, One Critically Injured**_

_What began as routine patrol ended in tragedy Tuesday night, leaving one police officer in critical condition while a police chief and suspect sustained fatal gunshot wounds._

_Forks Police Chief Charles Swan, 40, and his partner William "Billy" Black, 47, responded to a distress call at 11:35 pm. Officers say a local 24-hour convenience store was being held up by an armed, unknown assailant. Swan and Black were the first to arrive on the scene. When the suspect saw the approaching police car, he fled, driving away in what was reported to be a stolen 2008 Cadillac Escalade. A high speed chase ensued._

_Swan and Black were able to bring the stolen vehicle to a stop 8 miles North of where the chase began on Highway 101 by shooting out the suspects tires. When they approached the vehicle, the suspect, 37-year-old James Laurent, was said to have pulled out a 9MM pistol, opening fire on the two officers. Black was shot twice in the shoulder and once in the spine, according to medical reports. He was airlifted to Harborview Medical Center in Seattle, where he remains in critical condition._

_Chief Swan was fatally shot in the chest and back while attempting to assist his colleague._

_Backup arrived on the scene as the gunman pulled his weapon on the officers, and police opened fire on the suspect, who was pronounced dead at the scene. Arrangements will be held –_

I stopped reading. Next to the article was another – a two-page memorial to the beloved small-town Police Chief. From the center of the page, a pair of eyes much like my own stared through me. Charlie Swan looked older in the memorial picture than he did in the one and only photo of him I had in my possession. I had found it in an old shoebox of Renee's when I was six. One of the corners was ripped, and there was a crease down the center as if it had been folded many times, but it was the only link I had to the man that was my father.

If Renee had noticed the picture was missing, she'd never brought it up. I would stare at it often during the really bad times, trying to find all the physical similarities between the stranger and myself. I had his nose and, unfortunately, his eyebrows. I would imagine how different my life would be if I had been left with my father to raise me, and I would dream about the day when I would finally get to meet him. Because I would, I was sure of that. No father would abandon his child, and it was only a matter of time before he came for me.

But that never happened. My resentment for the absent Charlie grew as I did, and by the time I was a teenager, the photo sat at the bottom of my chest of drawers, untouched and collecting dust. Though I never could bring myself to throw it away – to really let go of that pretend life I'd never have.

I felt my face heating. Anger, embarrassment, confusion…I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. Luckily, with only one table, it was easy to excuse myself so I could pull it together. I caught Alice's eye across the dining room, signaling to the bathroom door before quickly shuffling away without a backward glance to Charlie at his place on the diner wall.

I pushed open the heavy door, and was greeted by the sight of a really pretty blonde with red-rimmed eyes, being comforted by an angry-looking Jessica. They both looked up as the door slammed shut behind me.

"Er, sorry," I apologized, reaching for the handle. "I didn't know anyone was in here."

"Bella, wait," Jessica called out as I turned to leave. I tried to determine how believable it would be if I pretended I hadn't heard her. She wouldn't buy it. With a silent curse, I turned back around.

The blonde was staring at me. From the apron tied around her waist, I had to assume she was an employee here, though she wasn't on this shift. I briefly wondered how long she'd been sitting here.

"Bella, this is Lauren," Jessica introduced. "Lauren, Bella."

"Nice to meet you," I said politely, and she nodded in response.

"Sorry," she sniffed. "I swear I'm not always such a mess. But that tends to happen when you give your heart away to an asshole."

I remembered Jessica's delight in telling me that her friend Lauren was now dating Edward Cullen. She'd said it was a new thing, and I couldn't imagine the honeymoon phase being over that quickly. Of course, I had no real life experience to relate to, so I wasn't even sure there _was _a honeymoon phase.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to sound sympathetic. It seemed like the most appropriate response.

"Do you know Edward?" she asked.

"We've met," I replied. "Briefly." I didn't feel like getting into the story of him doctoring my hand, and I didn't think it would be received well anyway. This seemed to be more of an _Edward bashing only _zone.

"If you're smart, you'll keep it that way." She turned to the mirror and began removing the black streaks from beneath her eyes with a wet paper towel. "That man is nothing but an egotistical, self-centered jerk who wreaks havoc on every life he comes in contact with."

"So, does this mean you're, like, coming to your senses and are done with him?" Jessica asked.

"Don't be stupid," Lauren sniffed. "We're perfect for each other. It's just a matter of making him see that. Which I _will_."

"Of course," Jessica replied, rolling her eyes.

Because it obviously made perfect sense to want to work it out with someone you thought was an asshole. Instances like these made me almost glad I'd never been able to be a normal teenage girl.

"I should really get back out there," I said, praying for a successful escape this time. "I need to check on my table, and I probably have food up…Um, I hope everything works out for you."

Lauren didn't answer, and neither tried to stop me as I pushed open the door and snuck outside.

My God. Whoever said small-town living was simple living had never been to Forks.

**EPOV**

I was in a shitty mood.

It wasn't my typical shitty mood, either. This was a special kind. I'd been in this hellhole – and I do mean that literally, as it was well over ninety degrees in the kitchen – since six in the morning. It was now pushing five in the evening.

I pressed my spatula down hard on the sizzling patties of hamburger, getting a sick kind of satisfaction in imagining it was Newton's face. I really didn't give a fuck if he had Malaria or the Spanish Influenza or whatever it was he'd been crying about when he'd called in sick. If people didn't want to catch diseases, they shouldn't be eating at Fork's Diner.

At least Jasper had agreed to come relieve me soon. I looked out the service window, praying it wouldn't get ridiculously busy before I had a chance to cut out.

Alice was busy with a table, and Angela was filling salt and pepper shakers. Bella was standing with her back to restaurant, facing what I liked to call "The Wall of Crap". All the random junk that Kate would find, she'd bring in to the diner, and onto the wall it would go. I was confused, wracking my brain for what could possibly be holding her interest on that wall, when it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I personally had thought it in bad taste to post the article about the shooting on the wall for all to see, but Kate disagreed. She said it was important to pay homage or some shit, and though I wasn't sure how plastering a piece of newspaper on a cluttered wall was a good memorial; she was the boss lady, and it was pointless to argue. But Jesus Christ, someone should have thought to take that shit down before the new girl arrived.

I could only see her profile from where I was standing, but her posture seemed to stiffen as she read, and I couldn't help but be curious about what she was thinking. According to Alice, Bella was quick to point out that she didn't know Charlie Swan from the random guy on the street, and the mystery surrounding their lack of relationship was apparently a hot topic. I only knew Chief Swan through the time he spent here at the diner and what little my father had spoke of him when they'd worked together, but he didn't seem like the type of man who'd give up a relationship with his daughter without a good reason.

Bella finished her reading and turned around, looking flushed and a little confused before disappearing to the restroom. I frowned, wondering if I should get Alice to check on her before shaking my head to snap myself out of it. It wasn't my job to babysit the new girl. And Alice would misread my concern for interest, and I sure as hell wasn't interested in hearing her clucking lecture once again. Besides, someone that anti-social was probably just one gentle shove away from bat-shit crazy, and I had enough psycho females in my life.

Speaking of psycho females…

"What the hell did you do to Lauren?" Jasper asked, coming up beside me out of nowhere.

I groaned. The icing on the cake that was my fucking day.

"Don't tell me she's _still _here."

"She and Jessica were walking out when I came in. She looked like shit." He took the spatula out of my hand, effectively pushing me out of my workspace. "I'm supposed to tell you you're an asshole, by the way." He scoffed. "As if you needed _me_ to tell you."

"Fuck you. I _tried _to be nice, and let her down easy, and all that other shit I didn't really want to do, but she's so fucking _persistent_."

To say Lauren hadn't taken the news that I was not – nor would I ever be – her boyfriend well would be an understatement. She was pissed. After slithering against me, batting her eyelashes, and attempting to convince me in her sickly-sweet voice that we would be the perfect couple hadn't worked, she'd turned on the water works. Under normal circumstances, a woman crying would be my undoing. In this case, it just pissed me off.

After demanding she knock that shit off, I proceeded to give her some simple advice: If you really want a boyfriend, you should probably stop being such a reigning skank.

That's when she slapped me.

She stomped off with Jessica, who was eavesdropping in a booth, pretending to read a menu even though she fucking _works _here and wouldn't eat the food we served if it was presented to her on Brad Pitt's abs. But she had gotten a first-hand account of what went down with Lauren and I, and the "sympathy" she felt for her friend paled in comparison to the glee I knew she was feeling at getting to spin and re-tell such a juicy story.

Fucking women.

I knew I should feel bad for what I said, but all I could muster was relief. I had gotten my point across at the very least, and there would be no more ridiculous talk about me having a girlfriend. I visibly shuddered at the thought.

"Anyway, she's known me since kindergarten," I continued to Jasper. "She knew exactly what she was getting into. I refuse to be sorry for her deluding herself."

Jasper shrugged, uncaring, and I took that as my cue to leave. I was starving and smelled like grease, so I reluctantly drove home.

When I entered the house, Esme was humming under her breath; an upbeat, happy tune that kind of made me want to vomit.

"You're in a good mood," I grumbled in a tone that made it very clear that _I _was not.

"I've just been informed that very soon I'll have all of my children safe and sound under one roof again. What's not to be happy about?"

I frowned, slamming the fridge door a little harder than was probably necessary.

"Emmett's coming home?" I asked flatly.

"Rosalie, too," she added, her smile growing larger.

I resisted the urge to pop the happy little bubble she had decided to hide in, and didn't even bother pointing out that Rosalie was _not _one of her children.

"And when is this…_happy _little reunion supposed to be taking place?" I asked instead.

"Fourth of July weekend," she replied, ignoring my sarcasm completely. "Emmett has that full-time internship again this summer, of course, but he managed to secure a long weekend over the Fourth, and he and Rosalie are making the trip from Seattle."

"Oh, joy, the golden child, home again," I mumbled unenthusiastically.

Esme finally stopped stirring and turned around to face me. Her smile changed from one of elation to one of sadness, and I could see the pity in her eyes before she spoke.

"Edward, I know things aren't easy for you right now. But this thing between you and your father…Well, it's affecting all of us. Is it really so wrong for a mother to be happy to have all the people she loves in one house?"

"When that mother is deluding herself into thinking we're all one big happy family and refuses to see the problems right in front of her face, yes, I think that's wrong."

She turned her back to me and resumed her song, and just like that it was as if I'd never even spoken. That was fine. I retreated to my room, slamming that door, too, for good measure. I wasn't above acting like a petulant child when it was called for.

Flinging myself onto my bed, I pulled a pillow over my face and weighed the pros and cons of smothering myself and ending the misery now. Having both Emmett and Alice under the same roof would be sure to put even more pressure on Carlisle and my strained relationship. Add Rosalie, Queen Bitch to the mix, and you've got yourself one hell of a party.

I get up and head to my car, needing to let off some steam. It's Friday night, and I know of at least three large parties happening within a twelve mile radius. The Edward Cullen everyone thinks they know would hit up each and every one of them tonight, and probably a couple of after parties as well. But right now, all I want to do is be left the fuck alone, so I head in a new direction.

My destination: Tillicum Park.


End file.
